


Lisse' Hin en' i' Numen

by clockworkgirl221



Series: Fandom Feminism (Girl-Centered Works) [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Ballet, F/M, Happier Times in Middle Earth, fem!Bilbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-03 10:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clockworkgirl221/pseuds/clockworkgirl221
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rivendell in the valley of Imladris hosts a classical dance competition for all of Middle-Earth. This year, there is a lot of attention on Buttercup Baggins, the first Halfling to ever compete.</p><p>Yes, this is a Fem!Bilbo situation...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lisse' Hin en' i' Numen

**Author's Note:**

> Title means “Sweet Child of the West” in Elvish.
> 
> Prompted by Princess Tutu (the ballet bit, at least), and Disney’s Brave.

Middle Earth had been at peace for many years. With the One Ring of Power gone for many years and not being found, the White Council declared that it had gone into the sea and would not be found ever again. After that, the races of Middle Earth relaxed and lived in harmony, especially after Lord Elrond of Rivendell suggested a festival of the arts put on in his valley, which was a central location for all the other races.

One such event in the Midsummer Festival, as it was called, was the ballet competition, where one dancer or pair of dancers would go home with prize money to be used for their hometown, city, or entire county. It was a classical dance competition, and many classical ballet and ballroom dancers came from across Middle Earth to compete.

There were also music and art portions of the festival, but many people came to watch the dance competition, especially in the later years of it.

This year, however, many people were coming because there had been an announcement that a new kind of species was coming to compete: a Halfling of the Shire in the West. This quiet race of people had never been seen at the Midsummer Festival, choosing instead to stay in their quiet little county called the Shire. But not this year.

Buttercup Baggins was her name, daughter of Bungo Baggins and Belladonna Baggins nee Took.

“The Tooks have been known to be adventurers,” said one of the judges, a wizard called Mithrandil by the Elves of Middle Earth, “and this is indeed a grand adventure for the little folk of the Shire.”

When she arrived there was so much fuss about her height and her weight. Dancers were usually tall and lithe, and this young Halfling (“We call ourselves Hobbits. And I would prefer it if you called me one, too.”) was short and bit chubby around the middle. But Elrond and Glorfindel promised she was a fine dancer, and the chubbiness was mostly muscle and a sign that, unlike most of the other ballet dancers, she was eating right and often.

“She’s a darling,” said one of the Elfin dancers to her husband. “And I have seen her dancing in the practice room. I wonder if the Lady Eowyn and I can snag her for our recital tour… I will ask as soon as I see her in a formal performance…”

One of the judges was a grumpy old King of Erebor, a man of several scars, many from a dragon who had attacked his home several years before. Dragons had been servants of a dark power, but together with the muster of the entire city of Erebor, the cities of Dale and Esgorath, and the King of the Elves of Greenwood the dragon had been defeated, and the hint of dark power extinguished. This King of Erebor had brought his two nephews with him from that mountain kingdom; indeed, they had dragged their uncle there when he had been invited to judge the dancing competition (it really wasn’t his thing). There were other Dwarves from other Kingdoms (such as Khazad-Dum and Ered Luin) in the metal and other craft booths, of course, but the King of Erebor had always judged the dance competition, and this year, since King Thrain II had passed, it had fallen to his son, Thorin II.

Fili and Kili, the young Princes of Erebor, had been sniffing around the competition, saying hello to many of the competitors:

“Well, all the dancers here seem rather cold,” Kili pointed out. “And most of the ones on this floor are doubles.”

“Why are you so fixed on whether they’re dancing solo or in pairs?” Fili asked.

Kili flushed, “No reason. Look! One last door on this floor. I wonder if it houses a dance _pair_ , like _every other_ dancer on this floor!”

Fili pulled on Kili’s braid, which was identical to his own, and said, “Answer your older brother’s question, Kili!”

The younger brother sighed, “You’re Crown Prince. I’ve got nothing to go on. So I thought I’d find a nice girl, whether she be Elf, Man, or Dwarf, and settle down somewhere.”

“So you’d rather settle than go on adventures like Uncle Frerin did?” Fili asked.

“Uncle Frerin was an odd duck… never settled down with someone…” Kili replied. “I don’t want to end up like him…”

“Adventures won’t make you like Uncle Frerin, Kili,” Fili admonished. “I say go on an adventure or two, and _then_ settle down with your Elf, Man, or Dwarf lass… or Halfling!”

He knocked on the last door of that floor, grinning wildly.

“Greetings!” they both said to the young lady who opened the door.

“Oh, my, you’re cute,” said Kili, when he came face to face with the famed Hobbit.

Buttercup blushed a little, but crossed her arms, “No,” she said, and shut the door.

But Kili was too fast and stopped the door from closing completely, “It’s a compliment, sweet lady.”

“I hardly know you,” Miss Baggins replied, trying her hardest to shut the door by force and with all her strength in her two small arms.

Sadly, the Dwarf race was a bit taller and stronger than the Halfling race. She was forced to rest herself, and the door swung open in the process. All Buttercup could do was stand in middle of the doorway like a stone. And all the boys (for they were but boys) did was stand and stare at her, smiling.

“Look,” she said, “if you two are just trying to scare me into not dancing in the competition, I’m dancing no matter what. That Gandalf talked me into coming and I’ll be damned if I let this journey to Rivendell and beyond go to ruin just because of people like you!”

“Why would we stop you, Miss… uh… Boggins…?” Kili asked, his face screwing up in a bit of confusion.

“It’s Baggins. And aren’t you competing this week?” Buttercup asked.

Fili and Kili seemed to choke a bit on their laughter, “Him?” Kili asked, “A dancer?”

“Not that it’s not a noble art form,” said Fili, elbowing his brother when he saw the Hobbit’s glare. If looks could kill and all that. “We’re, um, not. Neither of us.”

“Oh…” Buttercup replied, and then tried to shut the door on their faces again. “I don’t want fans either! Neither of you have even seen me dance!”

Fili caught the door this time, “No, miss! We’re the welcoming crew!”

“Or we’re calling ourselves that,” added Kili.

“Our uncle’s one of the judges, and since we’re the ones who dragged him here, we’re the ones to make sure he stays here until the week is done—“ Fili paused, looking to his brother.

“—and the winner or winners go home with his or her or their prize money!” Kili finished.

Buttercup stopped pushing at the door. It once more swung open, and this time with a bang. “Oh, um… sorry,” she said, flushing and looking down at her feet.

“That’s all right,” said Fili, smiling warmly at her.

“First Halfling at the Midsummer Festival. It must be nerve-wracking,” added Kili.

“And dragged to the Midsummer Festival by an old man, no less,” Fili commented, “Why did you let an old man like Tharkun take you here from your homeland? Just to dance?”

“He found me dancing near my mother and father’s graves,” said Buttercup, “When he saw I was an orphan, he pitied me. When he saw my mother was one of his dear friends and a Took, he wanted me to come with him so I could be protected. I refused. But when he told me about the Elves and the Midsummer Festival, I had an old Took longing to go on some adventures. And since I already was an outcast—I wasn’t married and I was living alone in my parents house with no one to take care of me—I decided to come to Rivendell and start off some adventures by dancing in the Midsummer Festival. Even if I don’t win the money.”

 “Well, we wish you luck,” said Fili, “no matter what happens, and where your adventures take you.”

And Kili added, “I’m sure you’ll do well, and have many grand adventures following.”

“Would you like to accompany us to dinner, young lady?” Fili asked after a few moments of thoughtful silence. “None of the other dancers would come…”

Buttercup flushed, “None? I did not know other dancers did not feel they needed to eat…”

“Perhaps they didn’t want to eat with a judge’s nephews, and heirs to the throne at that,” said Fili.

“A pity, if you think about it,” replied Kili. “We’re only trying to meet new people here in Rivendell… it’ll help Fili’s reign as King, should Fili become King in our lifetime.”

“So Fili’s the Crowned Prince,” Buttercup stuttered.

“No need to be anxious, little one,” said Fili, “You are royalty here in Rivendell, as the First Hobbit to dance in the Midsummer Festival’s Dance Competition, and whatever happens, if you eat with us tonight, we will forever see you in a good light.”

“And you will be welcome in our realm should you wish to travel there in your future adventures,” said Kili. “In fact, we may visit you for years to come after this when you get tired of your adventures and want to go back to the Shire!”

“You really don’t have to do that,” Buttercup said, “But I will go with you to dinner. I’m hungry and I don’t know my way around very well…”

So the Princes of Erebor spent the entire evening with Buttercup Baggins, and then the next morning, too. She had to go practice her dancing in the afternoon, as the next day she was dancing before the judges.

“Well, good luck, Buttercup,” Kili said, kissing her tiny hand, “You will be a Princess of your kind, I can feel it.”

“Not in the Shire, good Prince,” said Buttercup, blushing slightly. “But I may come back here, if only to dance in peace.”

“Kili, good brother,” Fili said to his brother as they watched the young Hobbit walk towards the rooms set up for the dancers to practice in, “Are you settling on this Halfling lass, by chance? Fancy yourself in love with her?”

“Not in love nor lust, brother,” Kili replied. “I admire any person who steps out of their comfort zone to do what they love most.”

“So you love her,” Fili teased.

“What? No! H-how could I take a Hobbit wife? She would miss her home terribly after all the adventuring!”

“You could live with her in the Shire,” Fili said, “You could move to Bree-town, or even here to Rivendell… there are all of a manner of places you can stay should you and her marry.”

“I don’t want to take her if she will not take me,” Kili replied, and crossed his arms over his chest.

Fili put up his hands in surrender, “Fine then. If you will turn down happiness, you better look at and dwell on her while you can. She leaves Rivendell for future adventures after the competition ends, in four days time.”

Kili was silent for a long while. “What can I do? She is a Hobbit and I a Dwarf. I am a Prince of Erebor and she is a denizen of the Shire. I am from the East and she from—“

“The West, yes, brother. I know,” interrupted Fili, “But I am the Crown Prince while our Uncle Thorin remains childless, and so you don’t have to stay in Erebor if you find a bride you want elsewhere. And our kindly child of the West said she loves Rivendell, and now seeing it she would love to escape the strange looks of her peoples of the Shire and stay here all her days, after her other adventures, of course… Four days, my brother.”

“I guess the Elves and the Men marry each other… but we don’t see the Hobbits enough to warrant them intermingling with anyone but themselves,” Kili said, a smile returning to his face. “There is hope yet!”

The next morning dawned and a messenger bearing flowers woke Buttercup. She gazed at the vase and the flowers with awe.

“Who sent these? Do you know?” she asked.

“A Prince of Erebor,” replied the messenger. “I cannot say which one, but he said you would know, my lady.”

Buttercup’s heart sank. “No… stupid boy…” she mumbled, touching the flowers gently. She did like flowers. But she had to dance in a couple hours, so she left the flowers on the table and went to put on her dancing clothes.

There was a hush over the audience as the dancing started. Everyone seemed to be there in the auditorium that day because the Hobbit was dancing, and somehow word got out. Kili and Fili were sitting up top in a box seat their Uncle now owned since the passing of the great Dwarf King Thrain II, who had owned it before.

Many people danced, including a young maiden from Rohan—a stunning dance mimicking a great fight—before the Hobbit came on to the stage, alone.

She was wearing a periwinkle dress, made with nothing stiff like the tutus other women had worn. The lady of Rohan had indeed worn armor instead of the stiff tutu, and Buttercup wore the soft silk dress of a young girl out in the fields. The Hobbit wore also a headpiece of crystal flowers, and it looked handcrafted—more beautiful than anything made by Dwarves. She looked to the harpist and flutist and nodded, and then stepped into a beginning stance.

Kili had seen many solo dancers come before the Hobbit, and each had been as beautiful as the one before, but Buttercup seemed to outshine the others, not because she was graceful (others had been more so), but because she had much passion as she danced a dance that reminded Kili of the flowers in Spring outside the Mountain, and the flowering trees of the Greenwood, and other forests, surely, across Middle Earth. Everyone in the audience seemed in awe of the Hobbit and her passion. She was as graceful as a Hobbit could be, and as lithe as one could be as well, Kili reckoned, but even though she had not the beauty of the Elvish dancers, or the grace of the dancers of Men, she had something a little different. And it wasn’t just the fact that she danced on bare, hairy feet. She had another something that the entire audience liked, and the entire audience gave a standing ovation for.

But the Hobbit lass was humble, and only bowed before retreating off the stage and allowing for other dancers to perform after her.

After the day’s dances, Kili went in search of Buttercup, to praise her and to give her one solitary rose for her work on the stage that day. He found her talking to two of the other dancers from the competition: an Elf who danced with her husband, a King of Men named Aragorn; and the young lady of Rohan, the dancer who danced like a graceful warrior defending her people.

Kili waited patiently for the conversation to end before he thrust the rose out to Buttercup and said, “Here. I hope you got my bouquet this morning?”

Buttercup smiled sweetly at him, “I did, and I thank you. But…”

Kili’s face fell.

“…I cannot be courted by you, kind Prince of Erebor,” she continued calmly. Her Elf friend and her friend of the Rohirrim looked on with kindly faces, “I am going on a recital tour with Arwen and Eowyn here, and I will not have time to be distracted by you, nor do I think you would want to follow us as Eowyn’s fiancé Faramir and Arwen’s husband Elassar will. You have not known me long enough, I think, to do so, at least.”

“Nonsense,” said Kili. “I will go, if not to court you, then to be a friend to you when these two lovely ladies are not enough.”

“And after only knowing her for two days, Prince?” Eowyn asked.

“She is a sweet child of the West,” said Kili, “I would get to know her a little better, wouldn’t you?”

Buttercup flushed humbly, looking at her feet before looking back up at Kili. “If you can bear the wrath of your Uncle for leaving with an Elf, I’m sure you can come with us, if you like.”

“My uncle will have Fili,” Kili replied. “When you leave, do come for me and I will have had everything worked out. I promise.”

Buttercup bowed to him slightly, and then went up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “You are a wonder, Kili of Erebor,” she said. “I should be delighted to share my adventures with you.”


	2. The Dancers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili ponders as Eowyn, Arwen and Aragorn, and Buttercup dance. Drabble

One of the dancers dances like a horse galloping, or sometimes like a soldier. My favorite of hers is the soldier dances, though her fiancé loves when she dances the dance of the king of horses.

Another of the dancers dances with her partner, and they dance the stories of famous lovers of their people—tall, graceful, immortal beings and fearsome warriors doomed to die. There are no happy endings in these dances; either one of them dances a dance of death at the end of each performance. Secretly, I weep for the lovers.

My dancer, though, my beautiful dancer, dances the dances of spring, and summer—of children playing in the snow and in the cherry blossoms’ rain. She dances the simple things, of happy things, of things that linger with love and laughter. She dances of nature, and the nature of things, of seasons and other cycles that come, well, naturally. Though they are all beautiful, my dancer dances things that make the most sense, and indeed, she dances the things I have learned to love the most: life, love, natural beauty, cycles, and in the middle of it all, my beautiful dancer.


End file.
